Do You Want To Tell Me What That Is?
by Dawesy
Summary: Captain James walks in on Molly changing and sees something he wishes hadn't happened. Just a conversation between our favourite Captain and medic. Light fluff.


"Dawes, do you want to tell me what that is?" Came a voice from the entrance to the tent. Tugging her shirt down over the offending skin, Molly spun around on the balls of her feet to see Captain James stood just inside the tent.

"What, sir?" She asked nonchalantly, suddenly feeling very exposed in front of her Captain in only her thin vest and little shorts. She wrapped her arms around herself subconsciously as he took a few slow, measured steps in her direction.

"Don't play games, Dawes, you know what I mean: show me." The Captain ordered, concern evident in his voice as he came to a stop within close proximity to her. Molly unfolded her arms and dropped them to her sides but made no attempt to move her top to show him what he wanted to see. Captain James tentatively reached his hand out to rest on her left hip, his eyes never leaving her face, looking for any sign of unease or discomfort at what he was doing. He slowly took a hold of the lower corner of her shirt and started peeling it upwards in order to see what she's been hiding. Molly looked away from him, refusing to meet his eye.

"Dawes, I have to see, okay?" Molly gave a curt nod in his general direction. James wasn't really sure what he was going to be looking at when he lifted up her top. He'd just caught a flash of colour as she was dressing when he first walked in. The sight that met him was a yellowing, purple hued bruise which stretched from just below her breast to her hip.

"Molly…" The Captain murmured, his eyes transfixed on the bruise in front of him. He moved his fingers to dance delicately over the edge of the bruise and she flinched in response. He instantly froze his hand, pulling it away from her slowly and dropping her shirt, at the same time trying to regain his composure as her Captain, not anything more intimate.

"I mean, it's nothing, it's, just…" Molly stammered out as she moved to go and sit cross legged on the bed behind her.

"Nothing? Dawes, I've seen bullet wounds which were more "nothing" than that." He said, following her lead and setting himself at the bottom of the bed in front of her. "You've just come back from R&R, was it something going on there or from one of the other members of the under fives?" He paused to see her gazing at him from under her lashes, her hair falling over her face as she looked down, apparently examining her hands. "Dawes, spit it out."

"It's nothing, Sir, just back home, you know how home can be." She said, meeting his eyes once more and shaking the hair from her eyes.

"Actually, Dawes, I don't. When I go on R&R, I don't come back looking like I've had a worse time than out in a war zone." Captain James placed his fingertips on her knee, trying to make a connection with the soldier in front of him. His eyes scrutinised the rest of her body as he sat there, seeing more, smaller and less colourful bruises in other places which he hadn't noticed before; marks on her shoulders and some escaping under the lines of her shorts.

"I used to go out with someone, right? Lee, he's called. I guess he never really got it through his thick skull that we weren't together no more. I went home and he was sat on the bleeding couch with me dad. I fired him off ages back, before I even did basic training but he had a habit of popping round to try and "convince" me we were meant to be." She glanced up at the Boss man, trying to gage his response. He sat, calmly with his hand still on her knee. His thumb skimming back and forth over the same patch of skin there. "He's a big bloke - bigger than me, bigger than you. I'm not scared of him, told him to do one but he just went on the piss with me dad instead. He came back later that night when I was asleep. Trust me to sleep on couch that night, eh? I woke up to him trying it on and I told him to do one. He didn't like that much." She laughed half heartedly."To put it simply, he beat the crap out of me for it. That's the thing with Lee: him and booze don't mix. Me dad came back whilst he was having a pop and helped me. 'Bout the only bloody useful thing he ever done for me…I'm alright, Boss Man. Fit for work, the medic said so." She looked at him, raising her eyebrow and leaning back on the palms of her hands as she did so.

"Was that the only time he…?" The captain trailed off, gesturing with his free hand. Molly gave a non committal jerk of the head. "Why'd you think I told him to do one in first place, Sir. He was a knob anyway, mind." She added, placing her hand over his on her knee.

"Are you actually okay though, Dawes?" He asked, looking down at her hand resting on his.

"I'm fine and don't go pulling any of that 'I'm there for you' crap. Now if you don't mind, Sir, we've got some insurgents to avoid and I don't much fancy doing it dressed like this so if you don't fancy seeing me with nowt on, I'd suggest buggering off as well." She smiled, standing up off the bed as she talked and pulling him up with her. The Captain, satisfied that the young medic was safe at least for now, grinned, walking towards the doorway of the tent.

"I don't know Dawesy, it'd probably make a nice change from seeing Smurf's package wafting about." He called behind him, only to be hit on the back of his head with a well thrown pair of black shorts.


End file.
